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Making ArtThe frame is built; the canvas stretched tight, Gessoed white, awaiting your brush's bite.Hold on! How dare you tread the wake of MonetRenoir, Kandinski, Dali or even Klee?Did you take joy at gleaning the meaningOf paintings you saw on some wall, hangingSomewhere where people stood and gaped in awe?Good grief, wannabe, can you even draw?Poor fool, how dare you pick up a paint brush?How dare you splash color on white canvasLike carpentry, plumbing and newspaper prosePainting requires a knack and practice, God knows.Give it a try. There are brushes to buyAnd tubes of paint, black as night blue as sky.Buy a book or two; Practice until you Know how to take a line for a walk. Mon Dieu!Can you draw on the right side of your brain?All those how-to books to read. What a pain.Keep at it and maybe you'll get it before you dieSo when someone jumps from the fourth storeyYou can draw him before he hits the garden.And blood pools red stark as a Mondrian.Meanwhile never a day without a linePay attention to detail. Take your timeAnd don't forget to add some of that blueWhen you need to paint a yellow canoe.See the light and then get it just right;Paint that light so colors glow and shine bright;Keep it tight, focused on the law of three.Or maybe you should just try carpentry?
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